


Providence

by penny



Category: Black Lagoon
Genre: F/F, Porn Battle, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-04
Updated: 2010-02-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 00:58:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penny/pseuds/penny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eda calculates her chances - nonexistent -- as the bitch's men frisk her. They're thorough, which is no surprise. Hotel Moscow didn't rise to the top by being sloppy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Providence

**Author's Note:**

> For the Porn Battle IX prompt _Balalaika/Eda, caught, pardon_.
> 
> Character spoilers.

Discovery is always a risk. Some prick in Washington outs you for some bullshit political play. Some other prick is tempted by some other side's cash or cause. Discovery's a valid concern, or would be if there was room for that kind of fear on the job.

She's killed to protect her cover, just never someone as high up as Balalaika. Eda calculates her chances - nonexistent -- as the bitch's men frisk her. They're thorough, which is no surprise. Hotel Moscow didn't rise to the top by being sloppy.

The blinds are drawn in Balalaika's office, and all of the lights except for her desk lamp are off, so the sun squeezing in around the edges of the windows is amazingly bright. Eda squares her shoulders as her escort leaves her alone in the room with Balalaika.

Balalaika smiles through the haze of cigar smoke. The room smells like her, faintly feminine under the cigars and gun oil. "Do you insist on being called Sister Eda when you're in," she exhales a stream of smoke, "civilian clothes?"

She shrugs. "I'm not too picky. Hang out with Revy, after all."

"Yes." Balalaika stubs out her cigar and rises. "Tell me, is that your choice?"

Eda adopts her best pious pose, hands pressed together in prayer. "I do as the Lord instructs."

Balalaika's smile widens. She comes around in front of her desk, braces her palms on its surface, and leans back. "And does your Lord tell you Revy will benefit from your influence?"

"I already have her playing better poker. Only catch her cheating half the time now."

Balalaika raises an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Is this meeting about Revy?"

"No." Balalaika pushes off the desk and stalks towards her. "This meeting is about you." She steps too close, braces a palm on the wall over Eda's shoulder. "And how long your," she leans in, so her breasts brush against Eda's, "Lord intends for you to stay in Roanapur."

Eda's pulse is doing that run-run-run race, but she doesn't really feel it. She can't, because then she'd have to analyze the rest of her fear. Much easier to pretend her quickened pulse is from Balalaika being kissing close. Even with the burn scars, the bitch is still pretty.

Balalaika smiles, sensual and predatory, and there's a flare of triumph in her eyes. "Do I frighten you, _sister_?"

"Hotel Moscow is not on good terms with my church. I'd be foolish not to be...cautious."

"Cautious?" Balalaika chuckles and leans closer, lets her lips ghost along the line of Eda's jaw to her ear. "You've always been reckless. Tell me, how often do you pray to your Lord?" Balalaika is wearing a shoulder holster. Eda feels the butt of the gun press against her armpit.

"Every night, like a good little nun."

Balalaika chuckles again, and Eda feels it strum through her. "And how often does your Lord answer your prayers?"

"I accept that He works in mysterious ways." She swallows. "Perhaps He wants me to minister to you."

"Oh, that's not wise." She slides her hand down and cups the back of Eda's head. "Though if you're offering to get on your knees and minister to my cunt, I might allow it."

Eda's whole body bubbles for a moment, and she can't stop her giggle. "Did you call me here for a booty call?" Another giggle. "I didn't think I was your type."

"You're not." Her fingers tighten at the base of Eda's skull. "But I can't resist the temptation of seeing a CIA bitch on her knees before me."

"You should beware the sins of the flesh." Eda sinks to her knees. "They'll keep you from heaven."

"I have a long list of sins." Balalaika keeps her fingers tight in Eda's hair. "Your Lord only knows a fraction of them."

"Since I'm not a priest, I can't take your confession." Eda leans and unzips Balalaika's skirt. The bitch is wearing garters and crotchless panties, and she's already wet, the dark blonde curls framing her cunt moist.

Eda gulps. She...shouldn't find the sight so hot. For one, Balalaika will kill her. This is just a game. For two, she's, not supposed to sleep with her targets. She's been sent in as a nun for a reason. For three, _Balalaika will fucking kill her_.

Balalaika laughs, low and throaty, and guides Eda's head towards her. "Even if you were, I wouldn't confess. I like having my secrets."

Eda bets she does. She leans in, kisses the crease of Balalaika's thigh. Her skin is surprisingly soft, though the muscle beneath is firm and tight. She's tempted to linger -- despite the voice screaming at her that this is a bad idea -- but Balalaika pulls her hair, forces her to her true task, and, well, even if she were in a position to complain, Eda's not sure she would.

Yeah, it's a bad idea. Eda shuts up that voice with the cold logic that she can't refuse. And that indulging Balalaika buys her a little more time to figure out a fucking plan. Er, plan. Since this is fucking.

But she's not doing much thinking. Balalaika tastes wonderful, smells wonderful, _feels_ wonderful, and Eda can't complain about the pleased little noises she's making. And, Eda admits, it's been so long since she's indulged. As stupid as it is, it's too easy to just enjoy this.

She's soaking her panties -- and probably her cutoffs -- by the time Balalaika comes, fingers digging into Eda's scalp hard enough to bruise. When her grip loosens, Eda leans back but stays kneeling. Now, Balalaika will reach for that gun, put a bullet between her eyes, and Eda won't flinch or look away. She's too proud for that.

But Balalaika bends over her, _kisses_ her, slow and deep, and oh, god, it's enough to make Eda whimper, and she has to curl her hands into fists so she doesn't shove a hand down her pants, because it won't take much to make her come. Balalaika catches Eda's lower lip between her teeth at the end of the kiss.

Balalaika smirks down at her. "I like having your secrets, too. It is in Hotel Moscow's interest, as well as the interests of some of our allies, to allow your business on behalf of your Lord in Roanapur." Balalaika releases her and steps back. "And don't tell me not to underestimate you or your Lord. I am well aware of what His wrath feels like."

"Harsher than yours." Eda rises, her legs shaky, from lust, she tells herself, not relief. "I'll show myself out."


End file.
